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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29490690">Mother by Memory</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScrawnyTreeDemon/pseuds/ScrawnyTreeDemon'>ScrawnyTreeDemon</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Where The Wind Blows, We Follow [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>As Kadaj finds it hard to wrap his head around Seph's presentation, Cuddling &amp; Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Even if Sephiroth's issues aren't delved into too much in this fic, Fluff and Angst, Genderfluid Sephiroth, Honest to god they're both messes, It's so hard to find remnant fics, Kadaj doesn't know how to feel about his mother being a guy by most standards, Mother-Son Relationship, Platonic Kissing, Remnant-Focused Fic, Tenderness, There's some stuff that's kinda misgendery, and also play piano, let alone ones focused on the no-doubt strained painful dynamic between kadaj and seph, they drink tea and eat biscuits</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 00:08:08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,622</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29490690</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScrawnyTreeDemon/pseuds/ScrawnyTreeDemon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Kadaj emerges from a pool in a strange, beautiful place after finding Jenova's head, and is greeted by an equally strange, beautiful stranger who he can't help feeling he's met before.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kadaj &amp; Sephiroth (Compilation of FFVII)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Where The Wind Blows, We Follow [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2227785</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Mother by Memory</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>My craving for Remnant fics is painfully strong, but unfortunately those are few and far between, so I spent the last couple days writing this. It's a little clunky in parts, but I decided to stop paining over it and actually post it.</p><p>More thoughts at the end!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He- He'd done it. His entire body buzzed, convulsing painfully as he reached for Mother's cells. His vision flashed with a hundred colours, as the sound of <em>everything</em> bombarded his ears. It was done. This was it. They'd made it. He'd made it. His palms flared with the stabs of a thousand needles, but he laughed it off with bared teeth. He laughed, and laughed, and laughed, until his throat was raw, until he drowned out that horrible buzzing. His legs spasmed with a pang. Tears, hot, wet tears gushed down his face in torrents, pooling beneath his chin. He lifted his head, now unable to see, unable to hear anything else but the static that enveloped his whole being. Mother's love was painful, far much more painful than he could've imagined in all his tiny existence. He'd take it a million times if it meant pleasing her.</p><p>The buzzing droned on, and on, and on. He was so light. It was like he was being lifted up and out of this world.  Everything was fuzzy, prickly. The pangs of his flesh had grown so intense they'd looped back to being gentle. He breathed, and something thicker than air filled his lungs, leaving him gasping for more. At the center of his vision, the static grew thinner. He gasped. The air grew thicker, and thicker, until it was no longer air. He stretched out his arms, pushing himself forward, as the static continued to subside. Light rippled far above him. Eyes wide, he carried on his upward climb. His head grew lighter, and the light brighter. He breathed again, and water filled his lungs. He was nearly there, the light was just above his head, if he reached over, he could--</p><p>A hand clawed its way into the pale green, daisy-dotted grass. Moments after, a boy emerged from the pool, scrambling up onto the bank, coughing up his lungs. The sun, a cascade of gold, filled the tiny grotto. Kadaj closed his eyes, allowing it to seep warmly through his lids. It was soft as it shone against his cheek, arm, his thigh. The cool, dewy undergrowth felt so good to collapse into. He gave a little sigh. Everything was perfect. He wondered about Yazoo and Loz, if they'd be here. He wondered if Mother would be, too. If he would actually see her. He buried his nose deeper in the ground, taking in the fresh, earthy scent. This was bliss. Something rustled gently. He opened his eyes.</p><p>Kadaj looked up, to see a figure in a white gown standing over him. A delicate face gazed down upon him, with a slim nose, violet lips, and green-blue eyes bordered with long lashes. He'd seen that face hundreds of times, in little bits and pieces scattered among Loz, Yazoo, and even that black sheep Cloud-- And he'd seen it in his own. Long, silver locks tumbled over a bosom that didn't heave; fell like a waterfall over limbs that didn't tremble. The presence of this... this-- It was immense, like the wide, yawning sky itself had taken human form.</p><p>"M-Mother?" His jaw trembled.</p><p>Those lips curled into a smile. The voice that came forth was deeper than he'd anticipated. "I have been waiting for you, Kadaj."</p><p>This wasn't Mother. It couldn't be. Men couldn't be mothers. And yet, it was undeniable that he knew this face, had heard this voice from the mouths of his kin, had felt that hair whenever he toyed with his own. The figure chuckled, and knelt down beside him, hand outstretched. For a moment, Kadaj hesitated. His fingers twitched. He took it, and was brought to his feet.</p><p>"Lovely!" He clasped Kadaj's hand tight. "Come with me; there is much to discuss."</p><p>They walked down a beaten path through the trees. Kadaj looked back, at the circular little pool from which he'd emerged, and realised he'd done so completely dry. The trees grew tall, tall but sparse, so that the pale blue sky was open to all. Kadaj gazed up. It was mid afternoon, judging by the sun's position. Thick bushes, hedges overgrown by flowering brambles walled the sides of the path and grotto. The figure paced on, and Kadaj wasn't sure whether to draw in or away. He toyed with the hem of his cotton tunic-- An item he hadn't noticed until now.</p><p>The path flowed into a glade, wherein stood an overgrown manor. As they came up the crumbling stone stairs to the door, the man wrapped his right arm around Kadaj's shoulders. He stood a good head and shoulders over him, if not more. Kadaj would've tensed, but the door was open before he could process it. He followed the man into a modestly furnished hall.</p><p>"The living room is just up ahead. I implore you to settle down, my dear, while I prepare you something nice." He unwound his arm from Kadaj's shoulders-- Hesitantly, it seemed. "You're no doubt eager for answers; I shall do my best to provide."</p><p>Kadaj nodded with a small sound. The man's smile was warm. He seemed to raise his hand, but stopped. He turned down the left branch of the hall, his hair billowing gently behind him. Kadaj stood there for a few seconds, unsure how to proceed. A pair of great wooden doors stood some feet before him, no doubt belonging to the living room. When he pushed, they creaked painfully.</p><p>Kadaj slipped through. Large bookshelves bordered the room, packed to the brim with worn books. The fireplace on the left, surrounded by dusty armchairs, looked like it hadn't been touched in years. On the mantle, sat a withered grey flower. He couldn't make out what kind. By a corner at the end of the room, near a window with half-closed curtains, lay an ancient grand piano. He'd seen it before... somewhere. Kadaj paced over creaking floorboards, taking seat at its stool.</p><p>The ivory keys were cracked and yellowed. He absentmindedly ran a finger across one. He pressed. A long, trembling note rang out. A lonely cry. He pressed again. His fingers seemed to know this surface, these keys, guided by memories Kadaj had never been privy to. And though it was clunky and uneven, he found he could play a tune. One that'd beckoned all his life, but ever evaded him. The sun poured through the curtains, caressing his right cheek. He closed his eyes, and breathed. Song came more easily to him, now, and he could make out the keys with touch alone. Sure, he faltered, played the wrong chord at times, but he played. The cries of the piano rang out; raw, trembling, but no longer lonely.</p><p>"You play beautifully."</p><p>A weight settled beside him. He opened his eyes. Long, silky hair brushed his cheek.</p><p>"Thanks-- I, I've never did before. I don't know how I managed."</p><p>A hand settled beside his on the keys. A large one, pale, with long, spidery fingers tipped with claws. Kadaj could see faint freckles. His companion began to play the same tune. It was clearer, now, and with verses that'd never once crossed Kadaj's mind. The sun shone on, illuminating the dust that fell of like flecks of gold. Kadaj sneezed.</p><p>"Aww, oh dear. I really should've prepared this place better."</p><p>"'M'fine, seen alot worse--" He was interrupted by another sneeze. He groaned, and sniffed. His companion handed him a handkerchief.</p><p>As he wiped himself off, his host was filling up a cup with warm, steaming liquid from and oddly-shaped jug. A tray had been set down on the end table beside them, with cups, tiny plates, and a platter of small, bread-like things were set on the table. Biscuits. Him and his brothers had stolen some from an open window in the countryside once. He remembered them being sweet, sweeter than anything he'd had up to that point. He remembered him and Yazoo having to talk Loz down from heading back to get more. He remembered how they'd put a spring in their weary steps, the small joy it gave them, how the bickering died down for the rest of the day.</p><p>One was set upon the little plate with his cup, which he'd been handed. He sniffed the liquid cautiously. Fragrant-- Mint. Kadaj's eyes widened. Him and his brothers had chewed on plenty of it throughout their journey-- Though, one time, Loz somehow made the painful mistake of chewing nettles instead. Kadaj giggled at the memory.</p><p>"Mm, what is it?"</p><p>Kadaj turned. "Jus' thinking about my brothers."</p><p>He smiled. "Yes, it would be wonderful to have them here."</p><p>They sat for a few moments, simply gazing. It was a peaceful moment, but, something was off. His companion didn't blink. Kadaj's eyes batted, as if making a point of it. Again, he didn't know how to feel.</p><p>"You haven't had your tea."</p><p>"Oh." Kadaj looked away, feeling slightly flustered. He took a large gulp, and jolted when it burned his tongue. Involuntarily, he spat it back up into his cup. His companion leaned in, taking the cup from him.</p><p>"Dear, dear, I forget you're not used to having hot drinks." He took out another cup, and poured some milk. Kadaj practically snatched it from his hands, swallowing it down greedily. "Remember to take smaller sips next time, okay?"</p><p>Wiping away the milk from his upper lip, Kadaj nodded. His companion laughed, and picked up the biscuit from Kadaj's plate. Kadaj made to take it from his hand, but his companion waved it away, instead placing it just short of his lips. Kadaj's gaze flitted over to the face of the other, who nodded. Kadaj closed his eyes, and bit. Yes, it was exactly like how he remembered. The buttery crumbs, mixed in with the large sugar chunks, seemed to melt in his mouth. His host chuckled, and ruffled his hair. Kadaj sighed through his nose. A low hum resonated beside him, and he felt those same fingers brush his cheek. His eyes fluttered open.</p><p>"Where are we?"</p><p>"Finish chewing first before you speak, dear. It isn't very polite."</p><p>Face flushed with embarrassment, Kadaj swallowed.</p><p>"Sorry." Something about being rude around his host made a part of Kadaj balk. A sizeable part. He didn't know why. "Where are we?"</p><p>He hummed. "Very good question. We're in another realm of sorts: one of my making. You must forgive the state it's in, my dear. I haven't had much time at all to get things truly in order. Truth be told, it's taken a great effort to even give it a modicum of presentability."</p><p>Kadaj nodded with a small 'ah.' He opened his mouth to ask again, but his companion stood up, tray in hand.</p><p>"Let's continue this out in the garden. It'd be such a shame to miss such lovely weather."</p><p>Without another word, Kadaj got up and followed him. The sway of his companion's gown in the breeze was mesmerising. The thin cotton weave brushed against his bare shins many times as they trekked through the thistle-choked yard. It was soft and light, like everything else about his companion-- Everything but those toned muscles. Lithe as they were, they seemed ill-fit for the sleek, dainty stranger; what with his full, dark lips, clear skin, and long eyelashes more than befitting a maiden from one of those old tales that lurked vaguely in the back of Kadaj's distant memory.</p><p>Yes, everything but the toned muscles, and the low voice.</p><p>They settled beneath the boughs of an elm tree. The tray was set beside them, as they leaned against the trunk. The sun broke through in green fragments here. Fluffy white clouds raced across the sky. The breeze wafted by, and for the first time, he heard his companion sigh.</p><p>"You know, Kadaj," he began, as the boy in question reached for another treat. "I wasn't sure if we'd ever get the chance to meet, what with the meddling of our adversaries. At times, I feared it would've occured to those idiots to destroy the head--"</p><p>He turned to Kadaj. His eyes, growing wet, gleamed brilliantly in the light. A full lip, trembling ever so slightly, tensed.</p><p>"--And I feared for you."</p><p>Kadaj swallowed his food. He wasn't sure how to respond, if he even should. And yet, something didn't sit right with him. The tender touches, the pet names, the holding of a biscuit up to his face.</p><p>"...Do I know you?" He paused, and added, <em>"Sir?"</em></p><p>The man broke into deep, half-offended laughter. "Kadaj, I'm your mother!" Despite his mirth, his eyes watered.</p><p>The half-eaten biscuit dropped from Kadaj's hand. His eyes were wide, and his blood ran cold.</p><p>"Oh."</p><p>"What <em>'oh'</em>? I was there at the creek-- When you were born --Don't you remember?" He cocked his head. His smile was wide, pleading.</p><p>Kadaj's jaw shifted stiffly.</p><p>"I... I thought you were my brother--" Kadaj's gaze fell. Something unpleasant sparked within. His recollections of his brother were... "You <em>have</em> to be-- It just doesn't make sense otherwise --You told me to find Mother's head."</p><p>The man sighed, his face softening. "Oh, <em>sweetheart, pumpkin,</em> I was talking about <em>my</em> Mother."</p><p>The epithets set Kadaj on edge. The man leaned in, raising his hands to cup Kadaj's face. Kadaj shuddered, and pushed them away.</p><p>"No, <em>no.</em> You must be mistaken, or--" Kadaj looked up at the man, jaw trembling. He'd caught himself, just barely.</p><p>"Or, what?" The man's voice grew slow and heavy.</p><p>Kadaj swallowed. The breeze whistled softly. He breathed sharply. Maybe if he said nothing, it'd be fine.</p><p>"Lying?"</p><p>Kadaj shifted away. <em>Fuck.</em> The man's smile shrank to a bitter grimace. Kadaj hadn't seen how sharp his teeth were until now.</p><p>"And why so?" He drew out every syllable.</p><p>What had he gotten himself into?</p><p>A flurry of sensations filled Kadaj's mind. He found it hard to parse them, to pick out the individual strings, untangle them, to find where the yarn began-- And the wind didn't help, nor did the rustling of the trees, <em>nor the intensity of the man's gaze--</em></p><p>"Y...You're a... man."</p><p>The man's face fell. The sun had been smothered by a great, grey thundercloud. Everything slowed to a stop. Those green eyes were wide, and red. His shadow fell over Kadaj like a curtain. The boy was still. Frozen. Everything was. He couldn't even breath. A voice cold, cold as stone spoke.</p><p>"And why do you think that, Kadaj?"</p><p>It was an absurd question. All Kadaj had to do was hear. Hear and feel. Hear the dulcet tones, and feel the raw, indominable might that seeped from the one before him into the air like a miasma. Remember the acrid smell of blood and smoke; the feeling of flesh and bone snapping as his slid blade through; the high winds howling as he loomed above a world judged. What if Kadaj said the wrong thing? What if he angered him?</p><p>He flew into a panic.</p><p>"D-Don't hurt me! Please!" He cried, edging away.</p><p>The man's eyes burned. "Where did you get that idea?!"</p><p>"Y-You do that to people who anger you-- Y-You get <em>violent</em>, <em>and you impale them</em>--"</p><p>"Kadaj!"</p><p>The boy broke down sobbing. <em>"--And you're terrifying!"</em> he screamed. "And you're not my Mother! You're not! It's not true! Mother would never--"</p><p>"Don't you <em>dare</em> speak to me like that!"</p><p>Kadaj flinched, and devolved into further tears. He curled up into a ball, hiding his head as he wept.</p><p>"I w-want my real Mother! I want Jenova!"</p><p>"I did <em>not</em> create you so you could display such insolence!" The man lurched forward.</p><p>Kadaj curled further. He didn't want to see the man's face, to behold the utter vehemence it no doubt held. He wanted Mother-- Sweet, gentle, loving Mother, who'd never yell at him, who'd pick him up and tell him it'd all be okay-- Right? She would, wouldn't she? Mothers were supposed to do that, weren't they? Make you feel all safe and warm, protect you.</p><p>But Kadaj didn't feel safe, warm, or protected. He wanted to leave. He'd had enough fighting for today.</p><p>"I-I'm sorry," He unfurled himself. His vision was blurry enough that he couldn't make out the man's face-- For the better, he thought. "Than... Thank you for having me over, sir. I...I think it's best if I got going."</p><p>Kadaj made to heave himself onto his feet. Before he was even halfway up, he was grabbed, and dragged back down. The boy tried to shrink away, but those big arms drew him into a crushing embrace against a toned bosom. Kadaj squirmed against that olympian hold, doing everything he could to pry away the clawed hands, to push away that firm jaw.</p><p>"Please, please, let me go." But even as he protested, his strength left him, and he slumped against the crook of the man's neck, and wept. A hand ran through his hair, and a firm kiss pressed to his head. Kadaj trembled, and not entirely out of distress.</p><p>"I'm sorry. I should've handled this better." He sighed. "I'm not being a very good mother so far, am I?" His voice was soft, softer than dandelion down. Kadaj wanted to cry more. Nothing made sense.</p><p>"Y-You're not my mother!"</p><p>"Boy, even if you allowed yourself to be deluded, Jenova only recognises I and I alone as her brood."</p><p>He felt pathetic, being reduced to tears like this. Was that why Mother favoured this man over him? Because he was strong and Kadaj was weak? He wasn't weak! He more than held his own... Right? <em>Right?</em> He quivered. He tried to remember the name of the man, if he'd ever known it to begin with. S... <em>S...</em> <em>Se...</em></p><p>"I-I don't care if she likes you more, <em>Sephiroth!</em> She's still my mamma!"</p><p>But the man only continued to shush him, to rock him back and forth in his embrace. Kadaj was tired, tired and cold. The cotton tunic provided little solace from the cold winds that now blowed. He was gripped firmer, and then lifted up, carried swiftly across the garden as rain began to fall. He breathed in the man's scent, and couldn't help burying himself as he did. He smelled faintly of lilacs. Kadaj loved lilacs...</p><p>Kadaj had barely been aware enough to notice the journey up the stairs, along the upper halls of the manor. Next thing he knew, he'd been dropped onto a bed, and had the covers drawn over him. His breaths were long and laboured, punctuated by the occasional sniffle.</p><p>"I.. wan... my mamma..." he murmered, half-into the pillow. Soft, warm lips pressed against his cheek.</p><p>"I'm here, love."</p><p>He made to protest, but the words died on his lips. He didn't know how to feel anymore. He'd thought his mother would be, well, a mother. He'd seen plenty of mothers in his time on Gaia-- None of them had deep, thunderous voices, or huge, hulking statures. None of them wielded long, terrifying blades or great flaming meteors. Mothers were meant to be soft, cuddly, <em>safe</em>-- Men weren't like that. Not from Loz's countless recollections of a bespectacled man who'd tie you down and break you to pieces, who'd stick needles in your arms and pull out your hair; not from the guns that'd been pointed nor the blades drawn; not from being left alone, by the only two friends he'd ever known-- Whoever they were.</p><p>"'M... M'ai really jus...jus' a puppet?"</p><p>Even through the thick wall of tears, Kadaj could see those lips curl ever so slightly.</p><p>"No. You are not."</p><p>Kadaj was pinned between gut-wrenching unease and reverent complacency. His heart thumped almost painfully inside his chest. He let out a shuddery breath.</p><p>"Whaddya wan' from me?" came his muffled voice.</p><p>"I don't want anything <em>from</em> you, Kadaj." Something shifted beside him under the covers. "Come here."</p><p>He snuggled up to him. An arm was wrapped around his shoulders, and once again he was buried in the his companion's bosom. A voice, low and sweet, hummed contentedly. Kadaj twirled a strand of long, silver hair between his fingers.</p><p>"It... It doesn't make sense..."</p><p>"What doesn't, pumpkin?"</p><p>"You're a man... Men can't be mothers."</p><p>"Who said I was a man, Kadaj?"</p><p>The boy paused.</p><p>"Everyone did."</p><p>A smile danced on sleepy violet lips. Grey lashes curtained weary eyes. Long, silky bangs brushed the boy's damp cheek.</p><p>"But we're not everyone, Kadaj. What mortal folk consider to be men and women concerns me not. I am far beyond twisting myself as to conform to their rigid moulds. I did that, once, child, and broke."</p><p>Kadaj looked at them with a strange sense of wonder.</p><p>"But... Even if so, how are you my mother?"</p><p>"Because I made you, my love. I carried you, like any other would: I held those memories deep within me, sustained them, nurtured them," A firm hand scratched Kadaj's back.  "Cherished them. You, Kadaj, were the parts of me brilliant, driven, and hurt; and that hurt is my deepest regret. You should've never had to bear it. You and your brothers are the bone of my bone and flesh of my flesh, and I will continue to cherish you as such, even as you move beyond me."</p><p>They paused. A warm silence fell over the room. Kadaj looked up, expectantly.</p><p>"I tell you this because, despite all I've put you through, I love you."</p><p>It was then that Kadaj leaned forward, and pressed a kiss to his mother's lips. And they held it. The rain outside poured on. Mother was soft. Mother was warm. Mother was strong. Mother, for all their fire, was safe. When they finally parted, he mumbled:</p><p>"I love you too, Mother."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I hope you managed to enjoy whatever that was :)</p><p>I'll admit, I'm a bit nervous to post this. I've always had a soft spot for weirdly intimate, somewhat-pained dynamics like these. I suppose it's comforting, having experienced something similar, if less dramatic, in my own life.</p><p>But, yeah. I always found it weird that in any fics where Cloud and Sephiroth are set as the Remnants' parents, Cloud gets put in the maternal role. I imagine it's because he's the more vulnerable, submissive of the two, but I feel like Sephiroth fits the bill more-- I mean, he literally created them from his own person; if we're going to be playing that game, I don't think you can get more maternal than that.</p><p>Kadaj's own angst with feeling like his mother didn't fit The CriteriaTM were, in many ways, inspired by my own. This weird, tangled mess between unconditional love and deep resentment, that's what it's about babey!!!!!</p><p>I wish I'd been able to touch on the whole 'puppet' thread a bit more. I did in an earlier version of this fic, but honest to god, it was clunky as hell. It's still clunky as hell, but I did my best. If I spend another hour on this I'm going to go insane, I swear to god.</p><p>But, yeah. Again, if you have, thank you for reading this fic. It's a weird premise, that I know very well, but I've always loved those.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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